Chapter Text
Toya’s feet sunk into the puddle on the cobblestone beneath him. He tried to regain his breath after such a steep climb up the hill. Even up here, the wind had a festive spirit. It danced in the pitch black of night, kissed the sides of his face, and played with his dual-toned hair in its caring hands. Even in the frigid winter and the chilling darkness, sneaking out to experience the festivals here always managed to breathe happiness into his stale life. With that said, the aggressively social atmosphere can be exhausting, and retreating into the hooded woods was always a perfect antidote for moments like this.
The air was fresh, and Toya had it all to himself. The leaves whistled in the wind as he walked by, welcoming their regular acquaintance. The torii gates stood tall and proud, their beautiful crimson being dulled by the night, but still shining through, and radiating an aura of comfort. Each plate of stone under his feet greeted him with a pleasant patter, and each wisp of wind graced his hand with a gentle embrace. The boy had been panting from exertion, but the flakes of snow nurtured him by cooling his sweaty forehead. He continued on walking towards the edge of the hill to look out over the festivities, but as he did, suddenly, a log that had rolled on to the path had traced his distracted steps, and tripped him up.
His frail body began plummeting towards the damp stone below, and he had subconsciously let out a yelp that echoed between each gap of leaves in the forest. He braced himself for impact on the cold, hard, ground, but just before he reached the floor… A mysterious hand was firmly placed upon his chest, and held his body back with an incredible amount of power. The hand’s slightly sharp fingernails dug into his shirt, leaving a lasting stinging sensation. The hand then pushed Toya backwards, and he landed, with a little uneasiness, back on his feet. Toya promptly restabilised himself, and then had the courage to re-open his eyes, which had impulsively snapped shut after feeling his descent. In front of him, its hand now free from Toya’s chest, was what looked to be an orange haired boy. He had sharply pointed ears jutting out from atop his head, accompanied by two bushy tails that fluttered in the breeze. Both his ears and tails were adorned with a warm yellow tip, and his face was obscured by a kitsune mask with stark carnation red detailing upon a sheer white background. His hands individually glowed with a faint aqua and fuchsia shine, emanating from his fingertips and slowly decaying as it travelled up his arms. His attire was traditional, like he had been an attendee of the nearby festival, but he had a distinct aura that felt like… something more than that.
The two stood in silence, staring at each other. Toya wished to speak, but no words could escape his tight-lipped mouth. His senses shut off and his whole world had seemed to go numb. He was frozen in complete awe staring at his saviour, completely entranced by his mythical demeanour; he just returned an expressionless stare in response. But just then, without a moment’s notice, the orange boy instantly vanished, leaving a puff of blue and pink smoke in his absence. The playful wind caught the smoke in its voyage, and whisked it away just as suddenly as it had originally appeared. Suddenly, everything was back to how it was before: the wind proceeded to dance across the hill, the winter air felt frigid once again, and the deafening darkness continued to send chills down Toya’s spine.
What… just happened? Who the hell was that?? What the hell was that??? The questions echoed in his brain, bouncing perfectly round his skill like a laser in a hall of mirrors. He had heard myths about youkai all the time, but he never believed that they actually existed… He violently shook his head, his hair slapping against his face, to try and ground himself. He had probably just imagined it, right? Of course! It was getting late after all, and he was prone to not getting enough sleep to sustain his workload. Though this wouldn’t explain him recovering from the fall, it was reason enough for Toya to believe in temporarily, and to get it off his mind so he could return home before he would get caught. He scurried off back home, and silently crept back in.
The next day, at the end of one of Toya’s gruelling after school violin lessons, his fingers flushed with red and practically bursting at the seams, he risked inquiring about his sightings yesterday to his father.
“Father, do you know if youkai are real?” His voice was innocent and honest, yet his expression had a twinge of fear. This fear wasn’t really uncalled for, as the voice that responded back to him, not entirely unsurprisingly, hurt him harder than hours upon hours of piano and violin play ever could.
“...What?” His father’s voice washed over Toya like a sub zero icy mist. “Of course not. Don’t ask such stupid questions, Toya. You need to focus on your training. Don’t interrupt my valuable time offering to teach you for such trivial matters.”
As much as Toya wanted to revolt against his remarks, he knew that he had been defeated. He managed to sigh a low “I understand” before he had to get back to practice. Without an answer from his father though, it only made him all the more curious. He wanted to see the orange boy again.